THE RACING CHRONICLES

Stoopid Week 2006: Whitefish Regained or Just Another Mystagogic Labor Party.

Vampire Chuckles

Never will I be able to make clear to her that
I don't race because I wanted to lose weight, because
turning thirty horrified me, because I was dissatisfied
with café life, because I wanted to write this book, or because
of anything else at all, but purely and simply
because it's road racing.

Really, if I want that pretty girl to understand me, there's
only one thing I can do, become champion of the world.

Tim Krabbe
"The Rider"

If we lose faith in ourselves, in our capacity to
guide and govern, if we lose our will to live, then
indeed our story is told.

Winston Churchill, 1932
"Churchill Alone," by
William Manchester

I.
Back-story

Email dated July 16, 2006 from somewhere in Oregon:

"Billy: Try not to bring anymore disgrace to Labor. Vampire and MKA will arrive tomorrow."

July 17, 2006. Ring. Ignored. Ring again. Ignored. Pounding on door. Ignored. More pounding on door.

"What, it's 6:30, too early for maid service Go away please.

"Dammit, open the door."

And thus came the realization that MKA was indeed in Milwaukee and the Self's headache retched up to blazing behind the eye pain. The Self does not recognize early morning as a time of day-except perhaps as the end of night out at say the Underground Wonder Bar-an entirely different story for another magazine. But, you can't put out a don't disturb sign for MKA; no, it would be as if to tell a dog to stop barking at the meter man or a termagant to discontinue recounting your faults to a counselor. All you can do is sit there and take it or in this case get up and open the door. It went more or less as follows:

MKA: "where is the espresso machine?" You know MKA does not drink dishwater coffee from Denny's and don't be putting anything in that machine but Tully's Special Blend. Don't give me that face. You forgot it, right. Great. Okay, get in your car. Bring me back Mocha with half the cream; make sure they replace the cream with regular coffee; and two extra shots. And you are not to come back with whipped cream on your lips. Now go. And when you get back MKA wants explanations."

Some time passes. Not enough because it is still before noon; but, sometime later.

MKA: " Okay, what is this with the Paper Clips winning three straight races? "
(Author's note: The Paper Clips are not to be confused or associated with any Team that is sponsored by a paper supply company. All the riders on the paper supply company team are former Olympic or otherwise grand heroic figures who give back to the community and spread sportsmanship, cheer, good will and hold fast to Republican values of family and general goodness. Team Paper Clip is all MADE UP. )

Self: "They are really good. They have a rider named Clark FreeBase. He is from Iowa or some place no one goes. He is really fast. The Boring One told the announcer that FreeBase is a Secret Weapon.

MKA: "Okay, calm down. Tell me about him."

Self: "He is not like the rest of the Clips. He doesn't wear one of those water containers under his jersey. Heck, he races with his jersey totally unzipped. He rides a steel bike with down tube shifters and nine or even eight speed. His seat post and seat are metal based and the wheels-the wheels mind you are thirty- two spoke clinchers.

MKA: "Probably just carbon they have painted over. What about the racing."

Self: "At Waukesha it was a hundred forty degrees, the pavement was all shiny and shimmering. He attacked the break and was alone and fell down on melting tar. He got up-didn't even cry-and got back in the break and attacked it again. He won by almost a lap. And to make it worse he didn't even blame anyone for the crash-unheard of stuff.

MKA: "Okay, that's one day. What happened to ET? "

Self: "He got into a dust up with Mr. Kronkite. You remember him. He accused Vampire of being a cheater. Well, I went up and congratulated him for the Clips' win-hey grudges are for sissies. So, Kronkite goes off that Labor is dirty and ugly and downright not nice and is grabbing one of his mini- shirted menopausal groupies and explaining that he was elbowing and crowding this Labor guy-all in good fun and in the spirit of the event-when all of a sudden the Labor guy knocks him down-for no reason."

MKA: " So, anything come of it?"

Self: " Of course not. The Boring One's wife isn't here to officiate. The chief official commented to me that "some guys just seem to fall down a lot and maybe he will learn something."

MKA: "Okay, but what about Chicago. It was flat and all corners?"

Self: "Yeah, they changed the course. It was eight corners in a kilometer. FreeBase rode away. It was quite humorous actually. The Boring One was at the back of the race screaming into his radio for FreeBase to slow down so that he wouldn't get dropped. Great stuff those radios. I think maybe that was our problem. I didn't have a radio to tell Evan to go faster; and I wasn't about to ruin my position by moving up to tell him. It was superior technology that beat us. Nothing could be done."

MKA: " Okay, nobody cares about your last place. What about FreeBase."

Self: "He was on the same bike. He had one water bottle, no gloves, cuts and bruises, no super cooling undershirt, no aero shoe covers, no skin suit, no SRM, power tap, altimeter, or coach giving him heart rate parameters. I am loathe to say it Rog; but, he is "gritty, not pritty." He is a nightmare, Labor in Corporate clothing.

MKA: "Okay, let's talk the injuries from his crash. You think they are real."

Self: "Yeah he has bandages on his arms and legs. You know, the gauze with tape."
MKA: "Bloody?" Are they "dirty with dried caked blood, like a congealed catsup and mustard mix?'

Self: "No, they are clean. He appears to change them each day."

MKA: We got him.

Self: "What? We got him?"

MKA: "FreeBase is all Red Badge of Courage injury. There's no ooze. Like there's no dust in the dust buster. He's all show. No ooze, no leakage, no blood. He's pretending and Labor pounds pretenders; it's right there on your jersey. We own him.
It will be all good Billy. Now, go get ready. The Skinny Boys have arrived. From now on it's just Labor Days."

Self: "I get it. Hey, listen, you going to eat that waffle?"

II.
Glory Rising

If you can't lose gracefully, if every event is a do
or die proposition you risk missing the best that
sport has to offer-release from the tyranny of external
rewards and punishment.
When winning is all that matters, and what
happens in the process becomes of secondary importance,
competition becomes a distraction.

Jackson and Csikszentmihalyi
"Flow in Sports"

We pick up the story at Cedarburg, Wisconsin. It is forty laps of four corners. It is uphill out of turns one and two with the crest under cedar trees followed by a harrowing downhill turn and a headwind finish. The Vampire and MKA waited until the first turn before attacking which is about the last thing the Self can remember until about twenty laps later he was asked by a Morgan Stanley Money Lender to please stay out of the way as a bike had to maintain at least a minimum speed in order to stay upright. The grassy overlook at the top of the climb took on a certain oasis type appeal what with it being set against the reflective road surface of cold weather cracked concrete and slime filled expansion joints. Besides, it had come to Self's attention that Labor probably needed communication assistance what with the Clips and Money Lenders being fully electronic. After all how else would Vampire or MKA know they were at the front rather than the back of the now twenty man field. You just can't race these days on low tech. And so it was that the Self sacrificed an almost certain top fifty finish for the good of the Team.

It turned out to be quite fortuitous being what right about this time Vampire attacked the thirteen man break and how else would he have come to know that he and MKA were now in a five man break or that the chase group was down to four. Yes, somewhere along the way four guys were lost and being what one of them was a very pious Paper Clip it is suspected that at least some of them were just transported away in a sort of Racing End of Days Rapture moment. In the break were the indefatigable Jarhead Chris Halvordson, a clean bandaged FreeBase, newly crowned forty five plus national champion Steve Strickler, MKA and the Vampire. By now the Self had been joined under the shade tree by former Olympic Gold Medal Winner and Head Paper Clip Boering, a couple of his acolytes, and a few other wretches practicing their excuses. The Olympic Hero is busy telling FreeBase to do no work because Kronkite is chasing and telling Kronkite not to work least he bring a sprinter to the break. Racing with technology is no place for those who can't appreciate the vagaries of a mystagogue with an audience.

After the five lapped the field, the Boering One decrees that FreeBase will nail the climb and drop everyone but Vampire whom he knows can't sprint. He then retires to the start finish line to clean up and prepare to be a good winner. So, here is the Self, alone on the hill without a radio and thus no way to rely the plot. And so it was that when FreeBase made the inevitable blistering attack the Self could only step into the road and suggest to a chasing MKA:

"HEY ROG, THIS IS THE LAST LAP. DON'T FORGET TO SPRINT."

And a good thing it was as MKA did remember to sprint and did in fact pass the Secret Weapon much as what a Lear Jet passes a Piper Cub.

Of course, the Paper Clips lodged a protest what with Roger having not previously designated himself as a Closer much less a David Mamet dotted line CLOSER. It seems that had this been known Kronkite would have been urged to bridge to the break so as to trade elbows or bible stories or some such. Regardless, the victory threw the announcer into quit a twit. As those who have been there know this Paul fellow has been at Stoopid Weed for the last three years and has in that time learned the names of exactly six racers. So, it was that he was completely stumped when MKA dedicated his victory to the Self who had sacrificed his race to stand on the grassy knoll and give hand signals. Not to be waylaid from his daily meme the announcer asked Rog to comment on the performance of the six riders whom he knows by name-Mr. SuperWeek Chris Black, former Viking Football player Gregorios, Phil Godkin, the Boering One, Johnny Van Flailen nee Van Sustern, and the Jarhead nee Halvordson. Rog, of course just continues to talk about whatever is on his mind which at that moment is something about Labor being a bulwark against the rages of corporate greed and republicrat mendaciousness.

Eventually, Paul wrestles back the microphone and inquires of Rog how he managed to defuse the Secret Weapon expecting of course humble homilies about FreeBase and the Paper Clips providing the competitive environment that permitted him to give witness to his personal relationship with whomever is tending the tunnel light. Yeah, well it went almost that way:

MKA:"All we hear around here is about points for the overall. Labor is not about points. You'd think this was grade school where you get conduct points for your permanent record. "
"On that last lap I knew FreeBase was all about the points. Labor is about glory. Glory is always going to beat points. It was simple. That and the bandages.

ANNOUNCER: "Bandages?"

MKA: "Ask Billy."

ANNOUNCER: "I'd rather not."

It gets better.

III
Who Needs Tires.

Vampire Drinks, Sunshine Dreams of Being a Box Cutter and ET Looks for Tires.

These guys are the worst sports
I've ever been around.

Clark Freebase after
Green Bay

I was boxed in.

Ubiquitous

Green Bay this year was raced on the easiest course in North American-one mile with one maybe two turns. This was mighty fine indeed and not because the Self could actually finish with all manner of stories of why he didn't sprint for eightieth but rather because it makes it easy to write the report and move straight to the fun stuff-making fun of others. So, to get it over with the field rode around at about twenty nine for an hour and half and then the fast guys sprinted and someone won.

About half way through there was a prime. Jeff Fleming is from Florida where he trains two hours a week up and down A1A. In a variation on the match theory of racing Jeff advises that he starts each race with one high powered match-the kind you light fireplace logs with. He uses it at the finish and always manages to get in the money. Here he latched up with a Money Lender and they split the prime. We promised him a Chronicle sighting. He can now sleep with pride.

On the last lap rampage, the Paper Clips lead into the last corner which was only six hundred meters from the finish and second in line Clip soft pedaled the field. ET insouciantly suggested that MKA ramp it up; and as it was thought so it was done. About two hundred meters from the line Evan stood up and blew his tire, thus winning by only ten bike lengths. Unfortunately, he was not able to pop a wheelie as carbon tends to shred on concrete.

For some reason the announcer would not let MKA speak for ET.
Meanwhile back in the parking lot Team Paper Clip was not celebrating. After those first glorious days the fanfaronade had stopped and an apparently upset FreeBase rode by Labor's lean to muttering that "they are the worst losers I've ever been around." He could of course have just asked.

III
Box Cutters Please

Racing is simple. Guys either get better or they quit.
We think it was Roger Young

You're right Bill, racers rarely go to races.
Grant Mann

As Chronicle readers know the Self likes nothing more than a discussion of coaching techniques, equipment analysis, supplement packaging and the benefits of chiropractic. Outside of watching match sprint Sun Dial Races there just can't be a better way to spend the day. So, it came to pass that the Self's Stoopid Week was made perfect what with Jeff bringing his bicycle magazine reading Cat III friend along.

Now, the Self admits to a certain apparent cognitive disability. Do not know about others but whenever doing imaginary racing the Self is always beating someone really good or at least doggedly hanging on while ramped up with pain. For example the Self's sex fantasies recently involve the Liz Hurley look alike on the British series "Hustle" and not the big boned lady behind the deli counter dishing out macaroni salad. So, it always seemed that in real life it was the preferable thing to race at the highest level practicable and if at all possible date up. However, this conventional wisdom is clearly wrong as there is a trend to race downward-for Cat IIs to move down or for IIIs to refuse to move up. What can explain this? It seems the more racers talk about power training, periodic training, peaking, resting, supplementing, and such and thus the less they want to compete or at least compete against anyone they can't beat. Could it be that the more a racer pays to a coach, downloads, uplinks, reads, and ponders the less he likes to race.

After Green Bay our boy approached Roger to explain that his finish had been impeded because he had been boxed in. Now, the Self is not much of a finisher and thus has no real experience here- but being what this course was four lanes wide and had been strung out for the entire last couple miles the Self was having a bit of difficulty figuring how our friend could have been put into a box.. Not that this is not familiar to the Self who on the rare occasions he gets to the last lap is almost always thwarted by fifty guys getting in his way. But, our Florida boy is fast; he had told us so.

Roger, showing yet again his infinite patience, wisdom, and charm engaged in a good three seconds of empathetic listening. He turned the boy over to ET who advised that he couldn't help because he had never known a fast guy to get "boxed in" what with his experience being that the fast guys did all the boxing and besides he was not much of a fighter. Now, our boy was nothing if not persistent and so he came back to Roger and this time offered that for a small fee he would ride the rest of the week for Labor and being what Labor guys always seemed to not get boxed he would almost assuredly then find glory which he would gladly share with MKA.

Roger now looks to the Self as if there is help to be found. And there was. The Self reminds Rog about the time we went to Home Depot and bought some box cutters just to be prepared for his bike arriving by UPS. And so it was that Roger told our boy to check the Bicycle Magazine Archives for "Racing 101-How to Get Out of the Box: We Grade the Box Cutters." The Self chimed in that he might also look at Consumer Reports for blade wear statistics. MKA went away happy that he was able to help. He promised to send a jersey in the mail.

IV
Return of the Vampire
1.

Sometime during the forty miles of Sheboygan the Vampire was in a break with the irrepressible Jarhead Halvie, Wisconsin Legend Johnny Van Flailing, and certified sign on the line that is dotted closer Phil Godkin. MKA was in a chase group about half way across-which as with being in Barstow could mean they were just halfway between Hell and Worst. Regardless, MKA reports that he didn't want to bring any Money Lenders or Paper Clips along so for want of his oar the chase ship sunk. Or, as the Hawkstar might have noted, Rog didn't have it. Hey it's the Chronicles, choose your truth.
Regardless, MKA's fear was soon allayed as the Vampire simply rode all but Jarhead off the break. Best Self could get out of Vampire is that Halvie surrendered asking that if Vampy would just quit attacking he'd not contest the sprint. Halvie unlike some others is a man to be trusted. Meanwhile the Self is most pleased to report that at some point in the race the Self found himself at the front. As one with our President, it is fun to dress up and pretend. Now, if Liz Hurley would just answer the phone.

2.

Kenosha was a lot of fun-right up to the finish. We went really fast for a long time and then toward the end Vampire brought back a break and dragged us around at about thirty-two. On the last lap Roger brought ET up the small rise out of turn three and onto the straight away in first place. ET does not lose such races. Well, not very often. But he did. And while the world did not stop it definitely came off cruise control.
And before we go on, the victory went to a well deserving Mr. Kron and the score for Stoopid Week now stood at Paper Clips with four Vees and Labor with three. It was going to be close.
It must be noted that ET had been complaining of stomach pains, chills and fever for a couple days. It had not prevented him from winning every field sprint and the victory at Green Bay. But, as it turns out upon his return home he was checked into the hospital with viral pneumonia. Sissy.

3.
Cuday

Vampire rode away solo. MKA bought him a box of chocolate covered cake donuts with sprinkles, and a twelve pack of Ball Park Franks. Vampire went out at night to find his own flies and lighting bugs.

V.
And Finally Labor Lands A Whitefish

"Why would you want to practice being wrong? I'd think
It would be something you'd try to avoid." Call asked.

"You can't avoid it, you've got to learn to handle it," Augustus said.
If you come face to face with your own mistakes once or twice in your life it's
bound to be extra painful. I face mine every day-that way they ain't usually
much worse than a dry shave."

Larry McMurtry
"Lonesome Dove"

Strickey, MKA, Fleming

(Note: The Self was not present for this event and is relying upon MKA's account. As always the Chronicles just report the facts as best known or at least best made up to fit.)

(Note: If perhaps a reader is inexplicably not familiar with the 2004 treachery of Whitefish Bay, the back drop for the following can be found in the riveting reportage found in the Chronicle Archives as "Disgrace at Whitefish Bay.")

Like French noblemen being wheeled in tumbrils the Clips resignedly pulled up to the line for their thirty mile execution. But, as if crystallized in a thralldom that sane men would recognize as illusion they came with offers of a deal-Labor and the Clips create a break and decide it straight up in a drag sprint. "We love Labor" exclaimed the Head Clip. "I'll monitor things on the radio and have our guys let you in on the intelligence. That way, you will know how hard you have to work, whether anyone is chasing; you'll need to know these things. We can help each other. Okay, Roger? Great!
And you can trust me. Just ask anyone." Roger reports that he looked to the expanding sky. As with men who take "I don't want to date you" as a marriage proposal the Clips took this gesture as a sealed deal.

The gun shot and MKA attacked and then Vampire attacked and then this happened and then something else took place and pretty soon a whole lot of neat events had transpired. It all ended up with Vampire riding by himself with the distinguished and always pleasant Mr. Robert Kron chasing along with FreeBase and a most content MKA. We'll leave the rest to MKA.

Distinguished Mr. Kron: "We had a deal. We'd create this break and then we'd all work together to stay away. Come on, you need to pull through so that we stay away, catch up with Walker and then sprint."

MKA: "But you are a sprinter?" What does Labor get out of this?"

Mr. Kron: "You can't win if we get caught."

MKA: "Oh yeah, that."

Mr. Kron: "I am not going to pull you up to Walker."

MKA: "That's fine. He likes being alone anyway."

Mr. Kron: "Well, you guys are pathetic liars who can't win without cheating."

MKA: "Hey, have you noticed HOW NICE THE WEATHER IS TODAY."

Mr. Kron: "Stop avoiding the subject. PULL."

MKA: "Do you think it will get humid again; or is this cool breeze going to last?"

FreeBase: 'Come on Mr. Kron, we need to stay away. I haven't scored a SINGLE POINT since Labor showed up and I do not want to be in a field sprint again."

Mr. Kron: "No, I will not pull this guy around just so he can make fun of us with the announcer."

FreeBase: "Oh for goodness sakes, it's just a bike race."

MKA: "It is really sunny. Do you think I should have used more sunscreen?"

Shortly thereafter they returned to the peloton which was now being heckled by the Women Cat IIIs to get out of the small ring and stop Sun Dialing least all the solar power be used before their race could be timed. Meanwhile the Head Clip was decrying to all that "this was truly justice." MKA thought he was referring to this as a much deserved pay back for the shame of years past rather than a lament as to what Management can expect upon making a Deal with LABOR. Too much sun will do that to Rog; it takes away his edge.

The Vampire won and went to the local bread store where he bought a dozen day old bagels for two dollars. Roger splurged for the tub of cream cheese. For some reason the announcer preferred that Roger not regale the audience with tales of lost loves and gained friends. And yes, after ten days he still hadn't gotten around to giving Strickey a call out for winning Master Nationals.

CODA

Obviously, not all stories can be told and perhaps next time we'll get around to recounting Tino's third place overall, Brett Claire attacking until the week ended, Strickey's all around greatness, lunch at Brett Favre's in Green Bay, and other follies.

But for now a brief sojourn to seriousness.

Hawkstar could not be at Superweek. He was in Oregon taking his turn attending to an ailing Punch Worthington. If a person can in part be defined by the quality and loyalty of his children and friends then Roger and David's father is way up the scale.

Ride Fast and Take Chances

Billy Stone